


Borrowed Time

by RedLipsCorinne



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hopeful Ending, Non-Canon Relationship, Protective Nick Clark, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 19:17:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLipsCorinne/pseuds/RedLipsCorinne
Summary: I really miss Nick in Fear, so I need him to have a different story. At least in my mind he cannot be dead. So writing this was like writing a good dream.





	Borrowed Time

This was going to be my special day. I'd make damn sure it happens too, even if I have to kill three packs of walkers. Though, to be honest, after so much time, I don't even feel sad when I kill them. Or better yet, re-kill them. They're dead already, just their brains didn't catch the memo. So they are hunting us, we are hunting them. If you ask me, they are lucky as hell: they don't feel pain, they don't understand what they are doing to the world. They are just a visible, walking, bad smelling cancer. Humans are not only hunted by the dead, but most importantly by the remaining living. Not to mention the ever lingering thought to always have a loaded gun in case you die, to blow your fucking brains out before becoming a walker. Yeah, it is a hard life, nowhere to escape from it.

I start the morning early. I like watching the sunrise on a day like this. Like some sort of a good omen in an otherwise dark and horrid reality. After I eat a little bit, I dress myself for war, which is my every day uniform anyway. Ha! Ha, ha, I made a joke! I would have pictured my life in a hundred different ways, but not reaching 21 years old and talking to myself, my own words hitting the inside of my brain.

I have checked everything again, just to be sure I'm ready. Army knife at my belt on the right, a gun at my left side. Smaller knifes in both my boots, a big shotgun strapped to my back. I also have a backpack and my mighty pickaxe in my hand. It might seem like overkill, but in this new world a gun is as valuable as water. There is absolutely no moment when one wouldn't need it.

I drive in the area quietly and I park my car where I always leave it, a little further on a side road from my destination, near some houses. The windows have dead blood on them, and I've transformed it into a wreck as much as I could, so it doesn't attract the attention of other human survivors. A time will come, and very soon, when fuel will disappear completely. It will be even harder to survive. But I'm not dwelling too much on that either. I'll deal when it happens. At the moment I have to deal with these fuckers. I snick closer to the place I need to get to and I already hear a few of them. This little town is quite empty usually because I clean regularly. But the walkers do wander around here from time to time. So I keep maintenance. Think of me as the 'once a month' cleaning lady. As I approach them they start to shuffle towards me, eyes empty of any humanity, teeth clamping menacingly, hands out to grab. There are five of them, two closer to me, three further behind, which gives me leverage. I struck the first two, right in the eye. It is easier and I don't have to worry about my tools getting stuck into their skulls. I try to stay as quiet as possible, not to attract more of them, if they are out there. I make good use of my knife with the last bastard. I got scared a little because he was a tall strong one and it was hard to reach his brain. God damn it, it was a little close there! I circle the area once looking around for more of them, I listen intently, but I don't catch any sign of more. Man, I enjoy a clean house!

I go into the bar which was my goal from the beginning. It is a little place with a nice wood counter. In the old days people from the neighborhood would come here for a beer, or something stronger even. Everybody knew everybody, they would talk at the end of a hard day, exchange news with the owner, stuff like that. Simple things people do and think will do till the end of their lives. Nature said 'NO' to that. I used to work here part time when I was in high school. Sometimes even the week-ends when I would visit my parents from college. Jack and Mary were the names of the owners. Darlings both of them, the grandparents I've never had. When all hell broke loose I was at the college, two hours by car from here, but I managed to get home somehow. I only found Jack alive. The bar was a mess, robbed within the very first days as most of the stores had been. After I was forced to put down Jack too, I left the place as it was, broken windows, the metal doors out of their hinges or half rolled up. But I liked to come back from time to time, keep an eye on things, go to the graves I had dug for my loved ones. Going to a familiar place represents my special day. I need that from time to time. I am not sure I know what day it is exactly per the calendar, but for the sake of order I keep a sort of a journal where I count the passing days. I know I can come here once a month, so when I hit the 27th or the 28th counted day I circle back home from wherever I am.

I enter the bar and gently caress the beautiful wood of the counter. I don't allow myself to miss anything. It'd probably kill me, the grief, the sadness and the silence. I walk behind it and reach the special place where I know I have something very precious stacked, behind a lot a debris. I smile at the beer bottle like I see an old friend, I sit on my favorite stool, opposite from the entrance, partially hidden by the short side of the counter. This was my spot back in the days, when the crowd would thin out and I would be able to have a beer, always near the access behind the counter in case somebody would need my service. Best place in there, Jack would say, because that far end would give me the best view of the action inside, the customers entering, and nobody would be able to get behind me. Apart from him, of course, because there was also the door giving access to his house. That door was always locked because he liked to open the bar from the outside, the normal way. 'Clara,' he answered when I asked why he doesn't use the short way, 'this way I can pretend I have a real job, honey. I go out the house, I say good-bye to my wife, I make a left and another left and I'm here.'

By the way the sun hits my face through the broken entrance I think it is midday already. From the inside pocket of my leather jacket I pull out a pack of cigarettes and I extract one wonderful tube of poison. I put the rest of them back. I only smoke one in my special day. I put on my sun glasses, light the cigarette and take a long drink from my beer. Ah, life! In time I have even began to enjoy the quiet. Noise means trouble. Without all the noise pollution I can hear everything around me. I've learned the wind, the waters, the trees, the walkers, the cars. Quiet is good. My mind goes to Jack again by its own volition. Some months ago, might be seven or eight, when I managed to get back home, I knew there is something wrong when I've found that door open. Everything of any value was missing from the house. For such a quiet little town, those first weeks after the end have been so full of violence. I actually had to tend to Jack for a few days then because someone had hit him over the head even if he never resisted the thieves. Humans and walkers alike broke the last hope that something could go back to normal.

I guess I have to thank my father for raising me to be a tomboy. My mum used to tell me how he was so disappointed when he found out they were going to have a girl. So when the girls around me were taken to dance lessons, my father would take me to learn how to fight. They had pajama parties, I went with my father in the woods to be instructed how to survive, to fish, to hunt with a bow. He used to love nature and was always of the opinion that we are ruining it and it will ruin us someday. I must admit I've never expected for darling nature to find a way to break humanity so fast. So soon. I've barely lived. And now I was surrounded by death. My dad hated guns so I only knew to use tools in the wilderness. He said to me once that we have to fight correctly. Ha! Fair play is almost an obligation now. Noise means the dead can hear, can track down and kill. 

However, the world is upside down. I appreciate what my father has taught me, but when I was left alone I really couldn't afford not to know every possible way to defend myself. It took me some weeks to learn how to use a gun, but if the moment asked for it, I had to know and that was that. Poor mum, if she could only see me now. She wanted a girl, but I guess she gave up when I entered college on a sports scholarship. I can run pretty fast, but I cannot paint my nails for the life of me. Of course now I don't need beautification. Which reminds me I have to cut my hair again. I used to love my hair, but now it is only a liability.

I don't see him until it's too late. He stands at the entrance, all covered in blood, looking at me. I give myself a mental pat on the back for my lack of ridiculous delayed reaction though. He's seen me already, so jumping off my stool or physically preparing for battle is a little overdue. I'd probably look like a cartoon. I just continue to smoke my cigarette and drink my beer while I measure him through my glasses. He's quite tall and well built, but I think I have a good chance to escape him. If it comes to that.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." He says and I see the corners of his mouth pulling up a little. I don't answer though. I have a disease my mother used to call 'the Thomas syndrome'. I trust no one, ever, and it takes a lot to earn it from me. This guy doesn't have the time. Nobody has that time.

"I don't want to bother you. I was just searching for some water. I ran out." He tries again and takes two steps towards me. My hand is already on my gun. "Please!" He has this low voice, a little raspy, which doesn't seem to match his young face. I can see him better now. He cannot be more than 20. "I'm Nick. Even a sip of your beer would do." He adds with a crooked smile.

I cannot describe his voice other than grounded, steady, like a safe harbor or a safe foundation. I'm very poor with words, I admit it. I guess my sports scholarship shows its shortcomings. Anyway, I nod once and lean on the left side to grab my backpack. He jumps a step behind with his hands up: "Please, I mean no harm, ok? I'll... I'll go." I see him stepping back slowly, hands still in the air, a small frown between his eyebrows. Meanwhile, I have found what I was looking for and I put it on the counter slowly, for him to see. I take another pull from my beer watching his baffled reaction. His big eyes become even bigger, but I can also see a toothy smile appearing on his face when he comes nearer. He stops three steps away from me and he takes the bottle of water I gave him. While he drinks it I decide that my special day is not going to completely happen anyway, so I step behind the counter once more and search for the last bottle of beer I have stashed. I cannot explain why I do it, but my gut tells me he might need it as much as I needed mine. I open it and put it in front of him. Perched up on my chair again I take out another cigarette, since all bets are off for today. By the way his eyes light up I understand he'd like one of those too, so I give him one.

"Thank you very much! This is such an unexpected treat." I nod again and continue to drink the remainder of my beer, a little more preoccupied with the outside happenings. Even if he's not speaking loud, it feels so unnatural to me that all my senses are in alert.

"You know, that is some fine hair you have there." He offers, but I cringe. My damn ginger hair. I have to cut it off immediately. The first time was the worst because it waved long down my back, but afterwards it just became maintenance. I haven't had the chance to arrive here in some time and it grew a little too much, it reaches my ears. I usually wear a bandana or a black cap. It's not only protection from the sun, but it also hides that bright colour. When he drags the last of his cigarette I decide it is time I leave here. I have to find some shelter before the daylight wears off. It is not right to travel at night. I can see he is getting ready too. Our worldly treats are done.

But when I have my everything in place I hear cars coming from the street. In the old time cars meant civilization. Now they mean a hundred times the trouble, they mean traveling in a pack. And the only packs big enough to make so much noise must be bad people. They have a leader, they steal and kill people and think they are the law now.

"Shit! Grab the bottle and hide!" I grab mine and the cigarette buds. Surprisingly he listens to me and we lean down retreating towards the door to the house. Jack's house. The bar has only two open walls. The long one, parallel with the counter, has the rolling metal door which is mostly still in place hiding us from the street. The one with the entrance is narrow and nobody can see us directly from it because the counter would hide us. Nonetheless I'd rather nobody be aware I come here, which means I cannot be spotted and I cannot leave any signs. The cars enter in our visual field soon and I see them rolling down the street. Big ass vehicles, six or seven of them. The only chance I have is for them to be just passing through. This is a small town, probably pillaged too many times before to attract the interest of the Vultures.

Of course, the new world is not about luck, but about death. The moment I hear the cars stopping in the distance I know they are here to search every nook and cranny. Which means I am forced to trust Nick, whether I want it or not.

"Come on. Quickly!" I whisper and grab him by the arm almost dragging him to Jack and Mary's former bedroom. Everything is ruined here, the mattress is all cut and full of blood, the bed is a tad crooked, the furniture broken to pieces. I remember doing that. It felt like killing him all over again.

I lie on my stomach once I reach the bed and crawl under it when I hear a low chuckle behind me.

"You want to hide under the bed? I don't think it will work." He whispers to me, but I am in no mood for jokes. I remove the piece of paneled wood. I put it aside and open the underneath hatch. It is dark inside but I know the place like the back of my hand. I throw my backpack down there, turn to Nick and pull him towards me stopping for a second to listen. The cars are still mute, so the Vultures are probably already searching.

"Come on, go through that!" I say once I get him under the bed with me and he sees what I was looking for. "There is a slow slide, don't worry, you cannot hurt yourself." He turns and looks at me in amazement, but I have no time for explanations now. "Please! I am the only one who knows how to close this. I'm right behind you."

"Relax, I'm going. I just wanted to hear your voice one more time." I see his toothy grin again and then he's disappeared into the darkness below. I look behind again to check if anything is misplaced and then I go too, legs first to be able to arrange the wood correctly. I close the heavy hatch afterwards, making sure everything is isolated. In the dark I touch the little cold light device. Nick is in the middle of the room looking around. The room is quite big, with some simple pieces of furniture and a big mattress in the corner. On the right side there is a door to the bathroom.

"I'll go wash off the day" I say almost defeated. I never showed this place to anyone. Now it is in danger. Who in his right mind would not steal this away? I open a small cabinet and take a towel.

As I enter under the cold water I try not to think about the boy from the other room and what this new development might bring in the future. The bunker is Jack's life time achievement. He built it himself while constructing his house with his wife. He never had the time to tell me how come he knew how to do it. He only mentioned his job had given him all the knowledge. Before dying he showed it to me and explained how it works, the cold light, the rain water, the ventilation and other details. The people in my home town used to say that Jack is the laziest bastard that ever walked the earth, because it had taken him the longest time to build a rather small and simple house and that he's always been poor. After seeing this I understood everything much better. Whatever his job might have been in his youth, he wanted a safe place for his family. In the end though it turned out I was his only family. That is how he had managed to save me, without even planning on it. I don't use the place much. After he was bitten he asked me to kill him. I had already done it with my family, so he said this should be a lesson to me. My parents had already turned at the time, but he didn't want to get to that point. 'Clara, you must save me. Please, grant me the absolution! I've lived a full life, I loved and I was happy. You are the closest thing I have to a daughter, so I need you to live. I'm sure from now on it will mean something else than what it meant for us, but nonetheless you are bound to try and succeed. Clara, you live!'

I find Nick in the same spot I left him. He looks scary with the dry blood on him, and I can see he is dead tired by the haggard eyes.

"Go take a bath! The water is cold, but it will help with that thing on you." I take out another towel give it to him. "I'll prepare some clean clothes for you to use when you finish."

"Thanks, ..." he's looking at me insistently, but I don't quite understand why. "You know my name, what is yours?"

"Clara" I say quietly. My name sounds so strange, I haven't heard it in such a long time. It sounds hollow, misplaced, not my own anymore. It has lost all meaning.

"Thank you, Clara!" He whispers with a smile and he enters the bathroom.

I put on some clothes which must have been stashed here for Mary. I am so grateful though. These are real, soft clothes. Sometimes, living this nomad life, never changing, rarely having the opportunity to wash up, I feel like my flesh hurts from all the jeans, the heavily armed belts, boots and leather jacket I always have to wear. My once a month special day is made for washing and sleeping one night of safe sleep.

After killing my dear ones, I stayed in here holed up for what must have been two weeks. I didn't eat much and cried until my eyes hurt. When I finally went outside, I was so weak that I almost got killed by a walker. So I decided then and there that I cannot hide anymore. I might get mad between those walls, in silence, only with my memories of killing the people I loved more than anything in the world. So I have established a large area and just walked through there, mostly living in the woods, getting acquainted with everything happening, the groups of people, the dead, the new routine of a new life.

"Clara? Are you ok?" I almost jump up, but I guess old habits don't die that hard. Ever since the end, I've managed to teach myself not to jump scared, but to reach for a gun. Which I do now too, grabbing my hunting knife when my eyes fall on him. He is wearing only the towel around his waist. "I've found an empty cupboard in the bathroom, I've left my bloody clothes in there. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine. I've left the fresh clothes on that chair." I look at him as he goes back in the bathroom to put them on. I didn't think this might happen, but I am quite struck by him. He has a truly beautiful face. I don't know the color of his eyes, but they seem warm and alive with some deep sense of... something. His mouth on the other side, that is a little sinful, if you ask me. Full, nicely contoured lips and the whitest teeth I've laid eyes on. Of course, I haven't talked to people in over six months and the ones I get close to have dead eyes and never want to discuss. Come to think of it maybe he's not even that beautiful, I've just forgotten how real boys look like. I don't even know if boys can be beautiful. Cute? Neah, that is not cute. Nice? Doesn't even scratch the surface. Sexy, goddamn hot. Indeed, that's the description.

"I cannot remember the last time I felt so good. Thank you for saving me." Nick is sitting on a chair near the mattress where I am.

"How long have you been without water?" I ask looking at my fingers. He is close to me, and clean, and I'm afraid I'll start ogling him. Or worse, blush.

"Two days, more or less. I had water, but I thought I've found shelter in an abandoned house and I fell asleep. It turns out the abandoned house was not actually abandoned and I woke up with a woman trying to bash my brains in with a bat. She didn't even allow me to take my backpack and water. Now, if I think of it, I got scared more than anything, because with a little bit of attitude I might have calmed her down enough to let me take my shit with me. Anyway, I was forced to enter this town."

"That is quite the story. I know how it feels to travel alone." I answer still looking anywhere else but not towards him. I think maybe he didn't have food either, so I take out some cans and prepare something for the both of us. His hands tremble a little when he starts eating, and I have this strange wish to hold him close, comfort him.

"You know, I thought you are mute, when you wouldn't utter a damn word." He says laughing. "Or worse, that you don't want to help me."

"I don't enjoy talking."

"How long has it been since you spoke to someone?"

"I can't remember. But I don't mind it. I never was very talkative anyway." I am afraid of telling him things about me. He might try to lull my vigilance and cut my throat overnight. I'm actually hopping we could sleep soon, but I'm afraid I didn't think everything through. There is only one mattress, one room. Hmm...

"I can see that. I would really like to have a conversation with you. I miss talking to people my own age."

"Why, who are you talking to usually?" I avoid the first part of what he said, to concentrate on the important information.

"My mom, my sister, some people we met in our way. But that was a couple of weeks ago, maybe more if I think of it." He seems a little too breezy when he's talking about his family. If they aren't dead, why did he leave them? Or, did he?

"What happened to them?"

"I just wanted to leave, walk by myself, find new ways of living. My mother is a survivor, and she will keep us alive whether we like it or not." He smiles at some memory which lights up his eyes.

"New ways of living? Alone you mean?"

"No, I was just thinking that maybe walking around killing these walking corpses is not the only way. Maybe other cultures, people with different histories than ours have a different way of understanding this new reality. Maybe they are not afraid." He's looking into the distance now, past the walls of this shelter and this town, probably towards an idea he cannot actually grasp. And unfortunately for me I cannot take my eyes off him.

"So, you don't want to walk with the living, but by the way you were sporting that blood you seemed to be walking with the dead." I say and chuckle a little, the sound foreign and wrong in my ears.

"I did, actually. It is the only thing I could think of. It saved me, it kept me awake and alert when I wanted to collapse and sleep." I should have looked away, but I didn't. I couldn't. His eyes, dark brown and warm kept me there, searching inside, reading me.

"If I were a collage girl still I'd say this is the scariest story, but life now is so scary all the time, every moment of every day, that I doubt this even reaches a top 10 of worst experiences."

"Do you think there is a better way of living? A way of understanding the dead, a way of creating a life amid all this?" This boy, after asking the most innocent of questions, looks at me like he's a child, asking help from his mother. I find it stupid actually.

"I cannot answer this. I know zero things about this stuff."

"Clara, but I am asking you. You must have thought about things like this. Isn't everybody?" That search, that naiveté again. So, because I've never had a filter and 0 diplomacy, I just tell him what I think.

"Nick, I really believe there is no god at all. Fine, worship what you see, the Sun, the earth, the animals, but always remember that a cult, a religion, is only you being grateful for the things they have to offer. There is nothing out there. We have emerged from a planet which we tried to destroy with all our might. Look at us, scavenging shops, searching for gas, afraid of the moment nothing will be available anymore. We live on borrowed time. Nature has finally found a way to get rid of us. This is not a disease. Everything has changed. We don't die anymore, we do not pester the earth with our decaying bodies, we are walking the lands aimlessly, eating the healthy flesh. We will not be able to have kids from now on, there are no hospitals, facilities, research. And as for the dead, there is no way they can be included in a sort of cult. Their power is not only in numbers, but in the very nature of the humanity. We are their past; they are our future. They cannot be understood because they are not human. They are not animal either. An animal stops killing when it's not hungry. They are always hungry. And when my parents turned, they wanted to eat me, their daughter, alright? So there is nothing there, no understanding. We just have to live the best we can. We owe this to the last shard of humanity fading away. We are the last ones and I think we should make it good." I can't remember the last time I spoke so much. Maybe during some oral exams, but never about things that really matter. He looks at me with a fire burning behind his eyes and he is beautiful. "I don't know about you, but since this day was shot to hell, I need some hard alcohol." I go to a little cupboard and take out the last quarter of whiskey there is and two paper glasses. "Here, for the last song of humanity!"

"For borrowed time!" He answers and starts drinking the numbing liquid. I feel it burn down in my stomach, a dull fire, but a fire still.

"I'm gonna shut my eyes after I drink this. This is the only sleeping arrangement. I don't mind if we sleep side by side." I want to say threatening things, to scare him off, but I know I don't have to warn him. I will sleep like a poor rabbit anyway, so at least I can try to dull his instincts. I wanted to spit out warnings ever since I saw him, but I know people do not respond well to threats. Most of them take them as challenges.

"I really don't think I was ever bothered by the thought of sleeping with a beautiful woman." Was that a joke, an inuendo or a compliment? This guy, really? I was never a girl to be liked by boys, maybe because I was so much like them, so after spending so much time with them I became almost immune to pick-up lines. But this one, coming from this guy, who probably wears his best cheeky smile right now, it hit me a little. And as fast as you can say 'trouble' I feel the blush creeping up on me.

"I'm sorry I'm not ugly then! There is nothing like waking up to a nightmare." I reply sarcastically and put my glass near the mattress on which I stretch with a sigh. "Will you please turn off that light? I'll light a smaller one for the night."

I see him finishing his whiskey and handling the cold light bulb. We are surrounded by a soft glow now. I watch his tall frame coming towards me, a hand going through his long hair for the hundredth time probably. I like the gesture very much. It seemed dirty and unkempt to me earlier, but after his shower his hair is still quite strange. I like that it is not covering his face, however. I hear him close to me, his head on the pillow now, and a small shiver runs through me. Probably the fact that I am always scared, hungry, tired and unsure of what will happen, made my sexual drive disappear along with all the other things I don't have anymore. But now, in the first night I feel safe in 45 days, when I know I am clean, I have real sheets under my body and a man near me, I think my body is burning from the inside out.

"Clara?" His voice in the dark is more overwhelming than before. I am sure these are just my silly hormones messing around with me. I take a deep breath to clear my head.

"Hmmm?" Is the only sound I can make.

"It is very quiet here."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, not at all, but I was expecting to hear the outside more."

"I'm sorry, I don't want to hear the outside today. I shut off the device." I did try to make my voice sound normal, but if I heard it tremble, he heard it too

"It's perfect."

I close my eyes decided to fall asleep, my hand on my knife near the mattress.

When he says my name again he is closer and I think he turned on his side, towards me.

"Clara, I will kiss you now. But I'd rather you don't slit my throat with that monster of a knife... deal?"

My head turns slightly in his direction. I stop because he is so very close, I can feel his breath on my cheek. I cannot let this happen, it is not right, I don't even know this person.

"Clara," He speaks again while leaning his entire body towards me and gingerly caressing my cheek "I really want to kiss you. I did from the first moment I saw you at the bar."

My throat is so constricted and dry that I am not sure I'll be able to answer. After an attempt of wetting my lips, I fill my lungs with some much-needed air and try to form a proper, adult sentence.

"No." Good for me, I'm almost as smart as the walkers. I am trying to understand what is going on inside me, because what I sense is not fear, but excitement. I can feel my pulse picking up, a long-forgotten tingle passing through my skin. I am not sure if I am attracted to him or if all the repressed experiences of a girl my age have just caught up with me. All of them at once. "Nick, please, don't do this. I am not an all-inclusive offer." This ought to do it. Sharp, almost mean comments have kept me safe since I was able to walk. I put him off, but what do I do with treacherous old me? Everything is new and as such, harder to understand. I've lived in a world that made a lot of fuss about appearance. Make-up, clothes, perfumes, witty lines, extracurricular activities, words like future, carriers and fortune were tasted on every tongue like exquisite food. This right here is a totally different thing. And it is as real as it gets. I can feel his body on my right side, emanating warmth, his heart beating so steady and strong as his chest presses against my shoulder. His smell invades my nostrils. It has no traces of perfume, or other foreign fragrances. It is earthy, with shades which resemble the smell of freshly stepped on green grass and morning dew. Makes me ask myself how his skin would feel under my fingers. I hate the fact that I somehow, by a miracle, trust him. In my head I'm trying to argue that it is normal that I feel this way after so much loneliness, that I am a woman deep inside and I crave the protection of a man, that he reminds me of the forest where I feel safe and it is just transference and nothing else. I can recognize that I have needs, but doing this, giving in, would only get me into trouble. I'm not going to do this, I won't.

"You have a very sharp tongue, Clara, I give you that." He chuckles softly. "You don't trust me. And that is not fair to me, because I do trust you."

"Why would you?" I hear the indignation in my own voice.

"You saved my life, you gave me water, you offered shelter, a bath and a safe night sleep. Not to mention the food. Come on, these have their weight in gold in our times!"

"Come on, Nick, you know I was forced by the circumstances to bring you here. What was I supposed to do, kill you and come here alone?" Big mistake to look at him. Giant. His lips are so near my own I'm afraid to breathe.

He knows what he's doing, but he doesn't kiss me, he just replies to my outburst: "You could have. You can still do it. Nobody can trust anybody, isn't that it?" I nod slightly, my breath shallow. "Look, I hide nothing, ok? I was a drug addict in my old life, I am not sure why I didn't die. If this is the better life my mum used to talk to me about, I call her bluff. But against all odds I trust you. I like you, Clara. Sure, it might be just the need to feel alive for once, but even if that is so, why wouldn't we do that? Steal a little bit of life from a world which is running low on everything? I literally cannot bring myself to take a step back from this. You do it if I am the only one who feels this attraction!"

I don't like it when other people are right. If I could disagree with him, I might fight this better. But there is nothing left. Just the charged silence between us. I swallow dryly, desperately trying to find a good argument for which this is a bad idea. But my brain doesn't work properly now, al intoxicated with this closeness. I want it, I crave him.

"Kiss me!" I whisper searching his eyes in the dark. His right hand cups my cheek again. For the briefest of moments, I think he will not do it, but then his lips descend upon my own. They are pillow soft and somehow timid at first. Trying, tasting. When the tip of his tongue licks my lower lip, a moan escapes me. I snake my entire body towards him, my arms find their way around his neck. We kiss with no regard to breathing whatsoever, his hands are all over my body. I cave a little because his wide frame makes me feel safe, and I find this to be very strange. I'm really hoping my intuition is not wrong, all the while I press my entire body to his. I don't remember being so brazen in my normal days, but I cannot wait any longer, so I take off his t-shirt and I caress his chest in amazement. So beautiful! Of course, the lack of food has made our bodies leaner. I used to have some nice puffy fat here and there, all gone now. I miss it, it made me feel more like a woman. The thought that I have too many clothes strikes us both apparently, because his hands remove my pants and shirt quickly. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, where the skin is soft and deliciously scented. I give another moan when our bodies touch, skin to skin. I didn't know being hugged can be so fulfilling, I never thought of it. "Clara!" He whispers over and over while kissing my neck, my shoulders and between my breasts. He stops there and lifts his head to look at me. His long hair is in disarray from my hands going through it. He smiles at me, a big, bright smile which, I think I can safely say, holds all that is good in this world. Even if I wanted I cannot stop my back from arching when he licks and kisses my breasts. One hand removes my underwear and wanders around in butterfly caresses. I am not sure I can wait any longer. I mean, foreplay is all nice and good, but I am ready. He is weak from the dehydration and lack of sleep, I am pretty sure I can force him on his back and take what I want. At first, I don't realize he stopped, but soon I open my eyes and look down my body where his head is resting on my lower belly. "Are you ok?" I ask a little unsure. Man, no rain, no cold, no hordes of walking dead will cure women from insecurities and fear of rejection!

"Ok doesn't cut it. You'd have to find a better description for the state I'm in right now." Without lifting his head, he turns his face up to me.

"Come here, then! I..." Silence settles itself around us. I cannot say those words. I am not even sure the words we know are still fitting the new realities.

"Neah, I'm not done here. I was just admiring. You are beautiful, Clara!" I'm smiling. These thoughts haven't crossed my mind in a long while. I was a daddy's girl before the end, spending a lot of time with my family or training, so I didn't have time to experience a lot sexually. I had a boyfriend once, I enjoyed sex, but not oral sex. It was all good and fine, but I cannot say it was earth shattering. I don't want to alter this present experience though, so I don't stop him. I can be glad for one thing and one thing only: I have followed religiously the laser treatment for removing the bodily hair, which I hate with all that I have. It helps a lot with the hygiene and maintenance in these scarce times not to have any... Oh, that is different! I don't know what he is doing down there, but it feels really, really good.

"Nick, oh, sweet baby Jesus!" I almost yell after I recover my senses. He's on top of me now, his body pressing mine into the mattress.

"Don't have to be so amazed. I have a limited, but refined set of skills." He says with a wide grin and then he kisses me. A sexual kiss. This is a kiss which belongs in the dark where nobody can see. His arms are on the sides of my face, his eyes watching me intently.

"I didn't... That is not what that meant. I just never... never."

"Clara, shhh, I was just joking!" He soothes kissing the tip of my nose.

In the soft light in the room I see his beautiful face and I am again in awe. Big dark chocolate eyes, a straight nose and the best pair of lips. They are full and smooth, and I want to not stop kissing him. I want to live the end of the world kissing this boy. The closeness fuels me again and I do what I wanted to do since he came out of the shower. I caress his skin open handed, his round shoulders and the sides of his torso. He is so warm that my fingers catch a sparkle of his fire. His body keeps some signs of adolescence, but I can also observe the man forming inside him, filling the gaps, growing. I cannot imagine what he's been through in his life, but after what he told me it is amazing that he has retained some innocence.

He looks delicious, the way he has me gathered in his arms, watching my face with a small smile, breathing into me. Maybe in the old world I would have wanted to bite on his shoulder, maybe mark his back a little with my nails. I sense this raw passion in him, a fast burning. But in our reality, all these are ringing badly in my head. I need tenderness and care. And by the looks of it, he's not of a different opinion.

We continue kissing each other, getting to know our bodies. It is like being infused with humanity and... love. Maybe it sounds farfetched and exaggerated, but we are making love. This is not only a sexual clash of two bodies.

When we are ready, it feels organic to open my legs wider for him. And once he is inside me he is searching my face for something I don't know how to give. I'm not really sure I know how to be anything but fire at this moment. There is a sense of completeness I have no words to describe. I sigh deeply and embrace him a little tighter, like I'm scared he'll disappear into thin air.

"Clara, I'm here. Look at me!" I listen to the quietly spoken command and I am met with the melting dark chocolate in his eyes. I must have said something out loud and he felt the need to re-assure me. "Nothing can beat real life. But I know you are here with me because I do not have such a rich imagination." He whispears in my ear and starts moving.

In the end, when we are a single body of fire and pleasure, he puts his forehead on my chest, breath shallow, his trembling body still connected to mine.

I am not sure how much we have slept when I open my eyes. I'll just call it morning. One of his hands is on my breast and a leg draped over mine. He looks so peaceful. I'm hungry and I want to pee, but I stay put, basking in his embrace. Because tomorrow we'll have to go, if the roads are clear from Vultures and I'll probably never see him again.

"Clara? Are you ok?" Such a lovely voice he has.

"Yes, I'm fine. Did you sleep well?" I am not sure this is awkward for him or something. We've known each other for just a few hours and already we have lived something very essential, original.

"I did. You took all my nightmares away." He replies, one of his smiles embellishing his already beautiful face. When he kisses me shamelessly and adorable I know nothing has changed after everything that went on.

We get dressed and eat something. I can tell he is very hungry, so I give him another can of meat.

"So, do you know those people you call the Vultures?"

"No, I don't know them per se. I just know what they are capable of. I've seen it from afar." I reply with a frown. I know what they do and that they are vicious. "We cannot be seen by them."

"How do we know it is safe to leave here?"

"We don't. I'll go out tomorrow and check the surroundings. They should not be here more than two days. There is no community here they can destroy. So, I guess they are just gathering all the supplies left." I don't tell him that most of the supplies were already gathered by me and placed in safe spots. The Vultures will find only what I left, and that is not much.

"I'll go, you don't have to put yourself in danger."

"I know the area better than you. You'll just have to be ready to leave. And then we can each continue on our ways." My reply gives him pause. I see that little frown between his eyebrows again.

"Clara... "

"Don't!" I stop him with a kiss. I know what he wants to say, and I won't have it. He'll be on his way and I'll be on mine. These things do not happen within this reality. One cannot get attached, because, out there, people we love die horrible deaths. And every day is harder after one's soul is ripped out in this constant brutality. "I have you now. That is all we have, this temporary quiet." His forehead is on mine, our lips so close that I can see my name on them.

"Clara!" We kiss more passionate than before. He has storm in his eyes and I want it so bad that I inhale the thunder from his plump lips. The void I always have in my chest starts howling within me to be filled. I would crumble at his feet if he'd push me away now. I take off his shirt and I greedily caress the expanse of his chest. I kiss his face and his neck while getting rid of all his clothes. I need to see him, to have his picture imbedded in my brain forever. We are both in a trance, like we are high on life, on each other's bodies. He's on top of me, moving, eyes closed, his lower lip between his teeth. I cannot close my eyes because I am not in my brain... I am high on him. My eyes stay on his face while my body is writhing in pleasure. With my hands on his face, I call his name:

"Nick! Nick" I say a little louder and he hears me the second time. He stops altogether, already pulling out.

"Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry!" In his eyes I can still see the storm, but subdued by real concern.

"No, no! Please, don't stop!" I almost beg with my hands on his butt cheeks, and I drag him towards me again. "You didn't hurt me. I just, hmm, I wanted to be on top." I lick my lips nervously. I know this is what I want, I just didn't think I'd voice it out. Nick smiles one of his heart stopping smiles and spins us easily.

"Better now?" He asks while gently biting my lip.

Seeing him under me gives me a strange surge of confidence. If someone were searching my mind, there would not be any thought of what is outside this shelter. I put my hands on his chest and push myself up. "Oh God, this feels amazing!" I moan, and I begin moving my hips, where his hands are holding tightly, searching for a rhythm. I know I have found the kink in his bad boy armor when I make a move which elicits a low grunt from the back of his neck. And the way he looks at me defies my entire experience. It is a sexy, dirty look, it mirrors what we are doing and what I want to be doing to him. And what I want him to do to me. It turns me on even more, that look.

I don't think I have one like that in me, but I have other things I can use. So, while my hips are rotating, and I have him so deep inside me I can see stars, I start playing with my breasts, pinching the tips from time to time, offering what I hope is a good show for him. I am close to my release. On his face I can read he's trying to hold back, but I don't want him to. I want to make him feel as good as I do. One of my hands travels down my body and finds that happy spot which can transform me. While I do this, I try to keep my eyes open on him. Oh, he's enjoying this! So much so that he lifts his body towards me and begins sucking on my breasts. I put my free hand on his round shoulder using him for leverage. His hand is on my ass, keeping me close.

"Jesus, love, don't stop!" He moans, his nose between my bouncing breasts. I wasn't planning to because I am so near I can actually feel the explosion on my tongue. I come hard and long, my vision blurs, the only other thing I hear besides my ragged breath is him. We keep undulating against each other for a while, but then I just collapse on top of him, my face in the crook of his neck where I taste his sweat with my tongue. His body of young animal tastes clean and addictive.

"Clara?"

"Hmm...?" I don't want to talk, I am too happy to be doing anything else but lying on top of him, enjoying the aftershocks of my orgasms. From time to time I whimper a little when my core clenches deliciously again, sending shivers all over.

I don't know if he adds something after that, because I fall asleep. When I wake up it seems I have been sleeping for days. He didn't move an inch, his hands are holding me, but he pulled a cover over us.

"Was I down long?"

"A couple of hours max."

"I'm so sorry! You must have been uncomfortable." I say and move a little, but he doesn't allow me more than a few inches.

"You are a sweet burden, Clara! I'm glad you were able to rest. There are so few things I can offer."

Every time he utters something like that I feel like crying. Why does he do that? He must know we'll part ways soon and all these words will hurt in the end. This is not a world to make promises.

I kiss him for a while because I think every moment we don't do that is a waste of time. Then we eat a little and drink some water. There is stuff I must do, if I want to be ready to leave tomorrow.

First things first, I cut my hair in the mirror. Nick watches me the entire time with a sad smile.

"You know, my sister has beautiful curly hair like you. Just that it is light brown. Well, she has everything beautiful, the golden child." He says while he helps me clean up the hair. I cut it all off. It's the shortest I've had it.

"The golden child?" I ask while he seats himself in my spot. He's asked me to trim his hair a little too.

"Well, yeah, she is the good one, high grades, bright future, listens to mum. I was the pest of the family."

"Why? What drove you there?"

"I am not really sure. I've taken myself too seriously, I guess, until I had absolutely no interest in the reality. All I wanted was my next fix." He explains, his eyes on me in the small mirror.

"Do you miss it?" I don't know why I'm asking these questions, it's not to start a real discussion. I am curious though.

"I'm an addict, Clara, I'm always missing it. It might be the danger involved. I don't know why I would have a death wish."

"Is this what you were trying to do, when you left your family? Get yourself killed, Nick?"

"I don't want to die, but the adrenaline is a drug too, if used properly. I've ignored the world for a long time. Now that we have so little of it left, I am forced too look at it with a clear head."

I don't answer because I don't know what to say. I am tired of the world. What I think of it is not important, survival is.

"What about you, Clara? What is your story?" I'm done cutting his hair and I make an escape move, but he catches my hand and kisses my palm. "You still don't trust me."

"Nick, mine is probably the exact story of all the others. I was in school. My boyfriend turned, almost god damn killed me. I ran home. My parents had turned. And my baby brother, mum's miracle. Had to put them all down. My friend's wife was dead. He got bit eventually and I had to kill him too. I am the death dealer around here."

"No, love, no, it's not like that" I am in his arms, my back at the wall. "You cannot think like that. It must have been the hardest thing, but they were no longer your family. Ok? Please don't do that to yourself!"

I escape his embrace easily and he lets me go, though his following words mean that he's not giving up. "You gave me life. That must count for something."

I wish I knew the answer to that.

That night, while me make love, he asks me to call his name. I do it, over and over again, until his name means everything I feel, but I cannot say. In the dark he explains that when he was alone on the road he missed talking to people. For people to know his name. He says that one of the worst things is that sometimes he doesn't feel like a real person. And now he wants to repopulate his name, not with a past when he almost destroyed himself, but with love, life, passion. He wants his name to mean my lips whispering it, my body around his, he wants to create something in the nothing.

***

When I think about how people used to describe hell I want to laugh out loud. Fair rules even in the worst place. Bad people going to hell for eternal damnation and suffering. That hell sounds like a relaxing, cleansing dry sauna in the world we live in now. There are no innocents anymore, no rules, no higher power to pray too. 

I think it is safe to say that we've been through something worse hell in the past months. That day when we got out of the shelter we met no danger. The Vultures were gone. So, I closed everything tightly and went to check if my car was still there. Nick never said a word but followed me there. When I turned to him to say goodbye, afraid I might lose my voice, or my courage, he uttered a single word in that deep voice of his: "No."

And I had a feeling he meant it. A few days ago when I had said the same two letters, if I had done it with so much conviction, nothing would have happened between us anymore.

"You... you don't want to say goodbye?" Of course, my voice gave me away.

"No, Clara, we are not saying anything related to that. I am coming with you, wherever you go."

"Nick, that is not possible. When we met you were looking for something. At the same time, I have no particular road. I'm just trying to survive."

"What I was looking for, I've found in you. I Am Not Leaving You! And that is final." His point was as valid as any. However, I couldn't believe it. I kissed his cheek and walked towards the car. I would leave him. I had to. Everybody around me was eventually dying.

"Clara, love... " His hand grabbed my arm and turned me in place. Evidently, by that moment I already had tears in my eyes.

"What the hell does that mean, 'love'? Do you see where we are, what we've become? Let me go! Let go of me, Nick!" The tears were running down my face and I was fighting him, but he's stronger than I predicted. He kept me in place.

"It means that I love you. Whether you want to believe me or not, whether you love me back yet or not. I love you. And I'm not letting go of you." I believed him. He was convinced of what he was saying. I, on the other side, had nothing to help change his mind. I put my head on his shoulder and silently cried, not sure if because I was scared of the future, or relieved because I didn't have to part with him. He held me without saying a word. When I recovered I wordlessly got in my car and I unlocked the car door for him.

"I usually live in the woods, so you'll have to learn if you want to stay with me." That was all I could muster. Yes, yes, he told me he loved me, and I kind of snapped at him. I know. What can I say, I really didn't know if what I felt was real or not. I had never been in love before. What I knew for sure was that I didn't want to part with him either. So, we lived in the woods for a month or so. Taught him some hunting and fishing techniques. We managed quite nice together. After a while I could see he was missing his family, it was quite clear.

We talked it over and we decided to leave here and search for them. We've reached the highway at the same time with a big group of people. They were coming from a place called La Colonia and they were led by Luciana and her brother. They told us what happened to their shelter and where they were going. Most of them got shot by this group of people which we thought would be our salvation, and in fact were the exact opposite of that. In the end we ended up in a big bathroom where these so-called soldiers were doing experiments on people. They would kill them and then document the time it took for them to turn into walkers.

I had gotten shot pretty badly, Luciana had some scrapes and bruises, Nick was furious. It was very hard to get out of there. I was not strong at all and I asked him to leave me behind. Which of course seemed to terrify him to the very core. He told me he'd never leave me. In the end Travis saved us all. And then again. With the infected coming into the camp, Nick and I were split. So, Jake, Alicia and myself arrived later at the ranch. Travis never made it. 

I didn't like it at the ranch at all, from the first moment. The plan was to leave as soon as I felt better. But then the plans changed. Madison wanted to stay because it was safe. I understood her, but I couldn't like people who thought that white people were better than the others. I helped Luciana leave when she told me she is still doing it. I wanted to leave too, and I tried to talk Nick into it, but if at the beginning he seemed inclined to, then he started getting involved in the activities required to keep the ranch safe. In the end he started nesting and I didn't have the heart to go without him. He was so happy with the little cabin he had received from Otto and he felt the most accomplished when, at the end of the day, he could see the results of a day's work. I stayed with him when he got anthrax poisoning and I almost died of a broken heart until we were all together again after the massive walker invasion Troy brought upon the ranch.

I realized something is wrong with him when he used again with Troy that night, walking the streets full of infected. I couldn't believe my ears when that maniac told me what Nick pushed him into. The fact that Nick was willing to die at the barrage proved my point. He was going through some changes and he didn't need my help at all.

At the stadium, where things seemed to go on the right path, I realized he was getting worse and worse. He became quiet and too calm for what was actually happening. And his constant habit to make jokes and to be adorably sarcastic, vanished totally. The walkers were still roaming the earth, but he seemed to think that place was it for us and he behaved as he had found home at last. He wouldn't get out at all, he was always concerned and preoccupied by the crops. I tried to be by his side, I even started a few timid conversations, but he kept to himself, not only ignoring my attempts, but denying that I am right. I missed him, the real him, the playful Nick, the attentive Nick. I missed him even if we were always together.

The bugs destroying his crops appeared by the same time Madison found this little girl, Charlie. She was about twelve years old and I've hated her from the first moment I saw her. Something was off with her and even if I didn't know exactly what, I was not blinded by her apparent innocence. That was the moment the people in our group started to resent me for my blatant disregard for the girl.

Nick and I were barely talking. He was almost obsessed to make her feel safe. Charlie didn't say much when she was asked, but she would always ask important questions which everybody was happy to answer. Of course, not me. I started to get very irritated by her constant presence in our room. He would always read to her, or take her to sleep there, just to keep an eye on her. One night, after a particularly difficult raid for supplies, I was very tired and all I wished was to sleep in his arms. To find some solace and peace. When I entered the room Charlie was there, on my side of the bed, listening to what Nick was reading to her. When I entered the room, probably my face mirrored my disappointment that we were not alone. I went directly to wash off the blood without saying a word. He followed me there quietly.

***

"What is going on? You didn't even say 'hello'?" He says without looking at me.

"What is going on? Really? I am tired, I am dirty, and I wanted to have a few blessed moments with you. Alone. Why does she have to be there all the damn time?" I almost yell.

"Listen, why are you so bothered with Charlie? Everybody likes her, everybody. She is a child, for crying our loud. Do you want us to throw her out all alone?" He is not only tired of my attitude, but also not willing to give in. He's tired of me.

"I do not trust her. I told you then, I'm telling you now. She is trouble. At least try to see my side of the argument."

"Jesus, what is wrong with you? You do not trust anybody, you told me yourself. You didn't trust me for a long time."

"This is not the same thing. I didn't trust you in theory. I came with you, didn't I? I can almost smell the lie on her..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Clara! What? What is it that you don't like about her? That she is all alone and has lost her family? Maybe she had to kill them herself, like you did. Don't you see, this is my chance to protect her like I wish I have protected you when you needed it the most! Before you became like this." It is a nice explanation, but the way he put it in words robbed it of any sentiment or emotion.

"Well, I don't know what to say. I almost starved in the beginning, I had to exchange my hair for food and water. I was all alone. And Charlie, excuse me, but she doesn't seem so very desperate to me. She doesn't look like she starved, or that she slept in dirt, that she didn't have any water to drink. She never speaks a word about herself, but she askes information about our supplies and the way we are organized here. And she always has her hands on some radio."

"She is not the devil. I can't believe this is what you think about that child. I feel like I don't know you at all. Who the hell are you?" I'm scared of him now because he almost screams at me, and the love I always saw in his eyes is gone.

"I am the woman who loves you, Nick." I answer quietly. In my mind I see the road opening up for me. I have to leave soon.

He seems disappointed in me. My declaration doesn't move him, even if it is the first time I say it out loud. I'm more of an action person. Words are not my best friends. I thought I've proved my love for him. But he is so damn blinded by what is going on in his mind that I have no way to get through to him.

***

That night I found the room empty. The following night the same. By that moment I was already half ready to leave. I sharpened my knives and cleaned the weapons. I knew I needed to leave with a car from the compound. One day before I left the Vultures appeared. We watched the entire charade powerless. I knew this place was doomed because I was aware of their ways. When Charlie walked out to them should have been the hardest for Nick. But it wasn't. Not only their leader mocked him for not being able to keep the insects away from the crops, but also told him what he already knew.

"Nick, and another thing, my man! You should have listened to your little lady. That one has a mind. And as for you, Clara, it must be horrible to lose the love of your boy there for something you were right about, no less. I applaud your instinct and your stubbornness. I think you are the first one Charlie didn't fool. And our Charlie is the very best. So, listen, we appreciate smart people among us. We have a place for you when you want it, ok? Keep that in mind!"

Nobody said a word to me. They were probably dumbstruck. Believe it or not I didn't feel any better for being right. And I didn't change my mind about leaving either. When he entered what used to be our room I knew he had cried. And I knew he didn't believe her to be bad. He thought her a victim. I don't know how I just read these things in people, but I do. The only issue was that was not my problem anymore. I was ready.

"Where are you going this late at night?" He asked, but I didn't answer. "We don't leave at night, you know that." He tried again. After I settled everything, I got to bed. I wasn't sure if I could sleep that night, but I could at least try. "Clara, what is going on?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Good night!" I turned my back on him.

"You're going with the Vultures? You've got to be kidding me. First her and now you?"

"Don't be stupid Nick, it doesn't suit you. I said I am leaving, not that I am going to read fairytales with the enemy." It was a low blow and I knew it, but I couldn't take his offenses anymore. I guess when the love ends, the consideration for a person is shot to hell as well. "But, hey, it's nice to see you have your priorities straight, first her, then me."

I think he answered something, but it was just a whisper and I couldn't hear it over the roar of the blood in my ears.

I left very early in the morning. Madison understood from the few words I used as an explanation that I am not coming back. I could see it on her face: she wished she had listened to me. She may have tried to be a nice and luminous leader, but she was a survivor. And a devil child was stealing her peace.

I took one of the cars and followed the long road towards Jack's place. I would go back there, try to live more from hunting and the plants I found in the woods. The first thing I did was to change my car. I was afraid the Vultures would follow me. I drove for a full day before I began looking for supplies. The Clarks were at the limit, and even if Madison had offered more supplies, I didn't accept. I would find something. Or at least I hoped.

I must have lived for two weeks just walking and searching the area. Luck made it so that I've found a small cabin in the woods. It didn't have much, but it was safe. I even found some tobacco and a pocket bottle of whiskey. I found signs of people being buried, what must have been months ago, and a body in a dug-up hole. He or she had committed suicide. I set some traps around the place and slept in the attic that night. I drank and cried myself to sleep. Who would have thought I can get a broken heart in the middle of the apocalypse?

I cannot tell when that nagging feeling made me go back, but it did. He didn't love me anymore, but I loved him. And I knew he was in danger. It never ended well with the Vultures. And, more than that, there was this constant dread of a catastrophe. So, I gathered some supplies on the road and when I finally arrived at the Diamond, I found myself a place in the woods nearby and watched everything unravel. Things were not going well at all. When it ended I took to follow them on their path of what must have been revenge. I am not sure they were aware of my presence at their tail. Nick was a shell of a man, a cold expression always on his face.

That day, that fateful day, I was almost decided to quit this stupid stalking. I convinced myself that what I was feeling was just the ghost of a dead love. My greatest love.

I watched the entire scene at the silo, when the man whom Nick called Morgan tried to stop him and he failed to talk any good sense into him. I couldn't move from my spot. I told myself that these were times when Nick didn't need my help. As I walked around the silos to leave I heard Ennis yelling. It was a desperate last attempt. And I knew Nick had killed that man for Charlie. For fear and loathing. Even if I knew he had reached his limits and it was a thing he had to do, it still felt wrong. People are better off running from violent groups like the Vultures. Because they have resources and can retaliate. I stopped near a tree and held myself straight. I swear I could smell the danger in the air, something vicious and thoughtless which suffocated my attempts to gain some distance. I stood there, trying to breath, to make my ears stop ringing.

I stood quietly watching Nick reading a book on a porch. Having him so near, part of his old soft expression back on his beautiful face, I almost caved and walked to him. To tell him I loved him, that I am sorry I was right about Charlie. Maybe even to point out that he abandoned me first. And while I was debating whether to take that step or not, I saw something moving not far from where he was reading. Her. Again. This damned child! My position allowed me to analyze her profile. And suddenly I knew why I didn't trust her from the very beginning. Troy. He was a little Troy. A psychopath, a natural born killer, no feelings, no empathy. I saw her taking the gun out, pointing it at Nick. My hand went to my hip by its own volition at the same time. Someone had taught her how to shoot. She wasn't doing it out of fear, but determination. She fixed her legs a little wider, held the gun with both hands and aimed. The gun shots ruined the silent place almost at the same time. Almost. Because I was faster. Charlie fell on the ground not moving. I saw Alicia and Strand, Morgan close behind them, running towards where Nick was.

I ran there too. He was hit, but I didn't know how bad. Nobody asked me why or how I was there. We turned Nick on his back and searched for the wound.

"Nick! Nick, please talk to me!" I whispered, so scared that my tears started to fall on his face.

"Oh!" He uttered and touched his shoulder. I pulled at his clothes until I saw the wound. She had aimed for the heart, but Charlie had run out of luck that day. With me shooting her, her hand must have flown up. It would take some time to heal, but it didn't look like it hit something important. I pulled gauze out of my backpack and pressed on the wound making him grunt. "Charlie? Was it Charlie?"

"Yes, Charlie." I answered meanwhile dressing his shoulder as best I knew how. "She was aiming for your fucking heart, you know." A hand touched my back in a caress. I turned only to find Alicia comforting me.

"She actually tried to kill me. I can't believe you are here." His good hand reached for my cheek and whipped the tears there. "You are raining on me, love."

"These are too many topics, Nick. I have no time to explain. We need to get you somewhere safe. The Vultures will be coming soon. And the walkers because of the sound."

"We have nowhere safe anymore. The Diamond is gone." I heard Alicia explaining.

"I... I know. I watched from afar. I know, it seems bad," I said when I saw her reaction, "but you didn't need me. I just, I had this presentiment, if you will. I had to keep close"

"You kept telling us. We should have listened." She replied quietly.

"Look, I'm sorry. There was no way I could stay with you guys after everything. I probably should have left even before that." I said and took a quick look at his face, just to be sure he is ok. "But we have to do something about Nick now."

"You might have saved our damn life, by the way. It didn't take long for us to learn some stuff from them, so we managed to listen to some conversations. That slimy guy, he really liked you. They were planning to get you and turn you into a Vulture, whatever the cost. They've lost interest a little after you left. And it pissed them off that they didn't know your intention, so at least they could follow you. And you were under their noses all this time. Bad ass!" I smile weakly. I wasn't proud of me at all, but I smiled at Alicia nonetheless. I have missed her too. Her no nonsense way of talking.

"Thank you!" That was his voice, the one I dreamed of hearing so many nights.

"Yeah, can you stand?" Those were no times for niceties.

"Yes, but I really like the attention. You were all hovering over me." Nick replied with that heart stopping smile of his, and for a brief moment I wished I could slap his gorgeous face.

"We have to keep following the Vultures." Alicia said, and Strand agreed. Morgan didn't seem to, however, but he kept quiet. "They have to be punished." She continued.

"No, they don't. The slimy guy's brother is dead. And Charlie too. And you are not the ones to fight them. Please, Alicia, please. Just leave here. Travel far, far away from them."

"Nick told me what you know about them. They'll do this to everyone they meet in their way."

"Yes, indeed they will. But fighting them on their territory is suicide. And now you have a wounded person. He'll not be able to fight for a while." She wasn't convinced, so I pushed further with my train of thought. "Look, this is one of the places where they hid a lot of supplies. I think you should hurry up and grab everything you can and leave. Get him better and then create a strategy."

"The girl has a point." a tall guy with a cowboy hat said. "We have to stay away and think of a strategy. And Nick has to come with you... " He said turning to me.

"Clara, my name is Clara."

"Hi Clara, I'm John. Take the boy with you. You seem to have a set of skills which will help. And we can decide to meet up in a certain place, 2 months from now. How does that sound?"

"We leave Charlie here. Maybe they'll believe Nick is dead too if he's not with us. We do our best to disappear. It is not a bad plan. But two months is too much. One month from now we meet up." Alicia said, and I sighed in relief because she was reconsidering the next steps to take. For the other part I was not happy.

"This is madness, you guys. How am I supposed to take care of him, find food and water and protect him from the walkers?" I offered, a little surprised by this turn of events. And Nick hadn't said a damn word.

"Oh, this is not a matter of discussion, I am coming with you, Clara." He finally stated, and as usually it was the most unexpected thing. "You chose me, you saved me. We'll find a way to survive."

He was right though. In a way I've never given up. We made quick work of stealing their supplies, decided a place where to meet, and we parted ways.

I settled Nick in the back of the car to rest and left that damn place. I took him to the shelter. I knew that there he would be safe. And I knew the area. I needed all the advantages to win this war. There I would have fresh water to clean his wound, antibiotics and some food stashed.

For days and days we just made small talk, both of us scared to tread that fragile equilibrium. At least his shoulder was mending well. We would be ready to meet their group when the time came. Meanwhile I left pretty often in the woods, leaving him to get better.

"Clara, would you stop fussing around me and sit? I promise, I am not dying!" He said one night. So maybe it was time to have this talk. I sighed and sat next to him. I didn't know what to say, but I've allowed myself to look at him. He had color in his cheeks again and the wound was not bothering him so much. He took my right hand and kissed the palm, like he used to do. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry I let you go."

"Nick, I really don't know what to say. Each one did what we thought was best."

"Well, I should have trusted you because we were together in that. And my instincts are shit apparently. I just... I wanted to think that a child can have at least her innocence saved. And you, I always feel you are protecting me, more than I'm protecting you."

"Oh, that is such a load of crap. And it is sexist, so don't be that. You saved me too, so many times. From Troy when I was dying, from the walkers. You showed me I can trust you with this place, which is so important for me. And most of all you saved me from reaching the end of my life without feeling love." My eyes started to tear up again. I felt so vulnerable talking about these things.

"Don't cry! Clara, please, I'm such an idiot!" He pulled me down to him, to rest my head on his chest. His earthy smell almost took my breath away. "I am not very good with instincts, yours are sickly on point, but I think at the moment you left there was no way I could have stopped you. Is it true?"

"Yes, I was too hurt. I felt useless. Your love, when... when you used to love me, it would protect me like a shield. When everybody started to look at me like am not a good person, I could cope with that. When I saw that anger in your eyes, then I gave up. There was no place for me there without you." At my words his arms locked a little tighter around me.

"I was blind. And frustrated. And scared. See, I thought we can stop running. I guess the new life must be about constantly moving from one place to another. You were just the living proof that the life I wanted was not possible."

"Nick, no life, as we used to see life before, is possible anymore."

"I know. Now I know. But you have to know a big truth too, you have to believe me, I love you, Clara. I know it seemed I didn't, but I did then, and I do now. Not because you keep me alive, but because I want to stay alive with you. All the time, constantly. In a way, I was sure I have you, you are mine, and that is final. I got lazy. I think I've learned about you enough to know when to back off. That night, when we said those horrible things I knew I've lost you."

"Is this what you said while I was having a panic attack?" I asked looking up into his brown eyes.

"I did. I had to say it, to taste reality and my own stupidity on my tongue. Clara, I am so sorry for what I said to you. When I think about those stupid words... I actually said those words to myself. I was unrecognizable even to me. And my mother has always enabled me, so she was just happy I keep inside and don't risk my life. You have been a constant ever since I met you. And you risked our relationship for the truth and my safety."

"Nick... " I tried to stop him because it seemed too much already.

"I know you are not a words person, love, but I am." He caressed my cheek and flashed one of his smiles. "I kept this inside for what seems a lifetime. You say words hide the lies easily, but you know I am not a liar. Do you believe me?"

"I do. I believe you mean everything now. What I would like to have would be a future. But that is impossible to get. Nobody knows what they would do at a certain moment. How many times you've promised not to take drugs anymore? You promised me and then you went and got high."

"How did you know that?" I saw panic and shame in his eyes.

"You party-buddy Troy. I could feel you are going through a dark patch, but that is when I knew you are losing it."

"Oh my God! I cannot believe you knew. I guess I have no chance to convince you I'll never hurt you again." He said, kissing the top of my head.

"No, you cannot. And I cannot promise that to you either."

"So, what, we try every day to prove our love, we respect and care for one another, knowing that every day this could change?"

"Yeah, something like that. We try to use respect as a weapon against the crazy moments. It is one thing not to agree on something, and another to offend the person you love."

"I did offend you then, didn't I? Such an ass of a man you chose to love."

"I'm not sure I ever had a chance. I'm a sucker for a beautiful smile. And this dimple here, this is my Achilles heel." We laughed together and then stood in silence for a while. I was so happy to hear his heart under my ear.

"Ok, let's change the vows then." He said smiling again, showing his dimple.

"Hey, you are not allowed to you use that trick against me! What vows, what are you talking about?" I asked disoriented.

"Don't look at me like I am crazy! I love you and we are not religious. So, this is the best we can do to consider the bond impossible to break. Clara Daniels, I promise to prove my love for you every day from now on, I promise to never look at you in anger. I'll bring all the problems on the table to discuss between us. I'll not keep secrets from you. From now on you are my family and my most precious burden." I smiled because he remembered that. I smiled at the silliness of this moment in all its magic.

"I'll prove I love you every day, with my body and my heart, my knowledge and my 'sick' instinct. I shall be known as Clara Clark from now on."


End file.
